The proposal ceremony officially began, and the crowd surged forward to watch.
Fan Jun gazed at Celia with exaggerated affection, then slowly dropped to one knee."My little fairy, from the very moment I saw you, I fell in love. Please marry me. From now on, I will love you, cherish you, and protect you."
Yara Lu and Ning Xiner were among the onlookers. Ning Xiner's face twisted with jealousy as she watched the man she admired kneel before Celia.
Just then, a tall, commanding figure approached. Yara glanced up in surprise—Nathaniel Fu had returned.
"Nancheng, you're back," she said softly, her tone laced with curiosity. "Do you think Celia will accept Young Master Fan's proposal?"
Nathaniel didn't reply. His sharp gaze remained fixed on Celia, standing at the center of the stage.
Celia looked down at the kneeling Fan Jun. Her voice was calm but firm."Mr. Fan, I will not marry you. Please stop wasting your time on me."
The words fell like cold water.
Fan Jun froze, the diamond ring still clutched in his hand. A murmur swept through the crowd as the young heirs of Beijing's elite began to surround him.
"Young Master Fan, your fairy turned you down!""Your proposal failed!"
The scene dissolved into chaos.
Nathaniel withdrew his gaze, his face unreadable. "Let's go."
Yara quickly followed as he walked out of the Night Club. But before they could get far, the roar of a flashy Ferrari echoed from the curb. The sleek car screeched to a stop, and out stepped Julian Fu.
He had just returned from abroad—his gaming company had gone public overseas—and the moment he heard Celia was in the capital, he rushed back.
Without hesitation, Julian strode forward and pulled Celia into his arms.
Watching their embrace, Yara's eyes widened. "Nancheng… does Julian like Celia?"
She had never imagined the aloof, arrogant Julian Fu would know Celia—let alone hold her in front of everyone. It felt as though every powerful heir in Beijing had fallen for her.
Nathaniel's jaw tightened, his expression shadowed. Without a word, he climbed into his Rolls-Royce Phantom. Yara slipped into the passenger seat, and with a sharp press of the accelerator, the luxury car sped away.
From the rearview mirror, Nathaniel caught one last glimpse of Celia still in Julian's arms. He rolled down the window, letting the cool night air rush in, but his silence was heavier than words.
"Nancheng," Yara ventured, still unsettled, "does your nephew really like Celia?"
"Yes." His answer was flat, clipped.
Yara frowned slightly, unease flickering in her chest. "This Celia is really something. She's captivated the most influential men in Beijing almost the moment she arrived."
Her voice softened as she leaned closer, whispering, "Nancheng, will you also fall for her?"
The traffic light ahead turned green. Nathaniel slowed the car to a stop, the streetlights casting shadows across his angular face. He lowered his gaze toward Yara's delicate features and replied in a low, steady voice, "No."
Relief bloomed across her face, her lips curving sweetly. She leaned forward and kissed his chiseled cheek.
As she pulled back, her eyes glimmered with desire. Nathaniel's gaze swept over her, from her eyes down to her painted lips. Under that deep, masculine stare, her heart raced and her body softened.
This man was the very image of power and control—expensive, refined, and impossibly discerning. Though suitors lined up for her from Beijing to Paris, she still found herself nervous under his scrutiny, afraid a single flaw might cost her his approval.
The air between them thickened. Yara's hands slid up around his neck as she leaned in for a deeper kiss.
But Nathaniel turned his head slightly, avoiding her lips.
She froze, startled. "What's wrong?"
His voice was calm, almost cold. "Your lipstick is smudged."
He gently removed her hands from his neck.
The light turned green once more. Nathaniel pressed down on the accelerator, and the Rolls-Royce glided forward into the night.
Yara hurriedly pulled out the compact mirror from her bag. Her eyes widened. Her lipstick was indeed smudged.
······
Nathaniel kept his eyes fixed on the road. Outwardly, his expression was calm, but in the reflection of the windshield, Celia's image lingered—the defiance in her eyes when she rejected Fan Jun, the stubborn pride etched in every word, the faint flush of her face as she walked away from the stage.
He told Yara no.
But in the depths of his chest, something restless and unspoken continued to burn.